


Carry the Torch

by flamiekitten



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Moving On, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:47:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23170438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flamiekitten/pseuds/flamiekitten
Summary: Neatly catching the lighter once more, Lio flicks open the top with a metallicclickand scrolls his thumb down the sparkwheel in one, fluid motion. A small flame blinks into existence, bathing their faces with its orange glow as it dances with the wind, and Galo recalls — with perfect clarity — the sensation of closing his lips around Burnish fire.
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 7
Kudos: 125





	Carry the Torch

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the wonderful [Spark of Hope Zine](https://twitter.com/sparkofhopezine) in support of NSW & QLD's Fire Services. This was my first-ever zine contribution; thank you to the mod team for letting me be a part of something like this and for all of yours and the other contributors' hard work! 
> 
> Please note that this fic is set after the events of the movie, and therefore naturally contains spoilers. 
> 
> I love these boys and this world very much. 
> 
> [Beta'd by the kind and generous @House_lesbian on Twitter.]

Galo wakes up to the taste of smoke and a longing that burns. 

🔺🔺🔺

Far below, the late-night traffic murmurs its urban lullaby and the streetlights twinkle like fallen stars. A playful breeze tugs at Galo's hair as he dangles his legs over the edge of his apartment building with a total lack of concern for the 15-storey drop. He absentmindedly passes a metal lighter back and forth between his hands. Its solid weight does little to anchor his mile-a-minute thoughts, but the simple act of keeping his hands busy is a comfort all the same. Since losing the ice lake, the rooftop has become Galo’s chosen “cool down” place. 

Six months on, the restoration work is coming along smoothly. The people of Promepolis have proven their ability to bounce back from just about any crisis, uniting as one to put their lives back together. There’s still plenty to be done, but at least the city is beginning to resemble a city again. For Galo and the rest of Burning Rescue, time has passed by in a blur of hard work. Not only have they frontlined the relief and repair work, but they’ve also — naturally — found themselves getting heavily involved in ex-Burnish affairs. Despite all of Galo’s TV appearances and newspaper interviews explaining the series of events that had nearly ended in world catastrophe (“but  _ didn’t _ , thanks to me AND Lio here!”) the public consensus remains one of suspicion and fear. And that’s before getting into everything surrounding the G—  _ Kray _ , and the Parnassus Project, and the eventual trial that Galo will no doubt have to add his voice to, and— 

“Can’t sleep?” 

_ Pop _ ! There goes the bubble of his thoughts. Letting out a startled yelp, Galo flails, feeling the lighter slip from his grasp and into— the center of Lio’s miraculously outstretched hand. Galo deflates on the spot, expelling all of the air from his lungs in a lengthy sigh, sheepishly ruffling the back of his head.

“I didn’t even hear you come over!” he marvels.

“... Clearly. Good thing we’re no longer mortal enemies, huh?” There’s no real bite to Lio’s tone; a gentle taunt softened further by the poorly-concealed smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “Or that could have been the end of ‘the great Galo Thymos’.”

Galo immediately splutters in protest.

“We were  _ never _ mortal enemies!” 

Lio laughs — actually laughs! — and Galo tries to ignore the wave of warmth in the pit of his stomach. Dressed in one of Galo’s old t-shirts (it’s a nightgown on his slim frame) and a pair of sleep shorts with his hair done up in a loose bun, Lio’s current appearance is worlds apart from the sleek, sharp, tall-booted and multi-belted, leather-clad leader of Mad Burnish that Galo had met just half a year ago. Though Lio’s still quick to put up his guard and just as slow to lower it again, Galo can’t help but notice each and every one of the unrestrained smiles and unimpeded bursts of laughter that manage to slip through the cracks. 

Especially when he seems to be the cause of them. 

“So,” Lio’s voice cuts through the fog once more as he settles down beside Galo. Leaning against one knee, he casually tosses and catches the lighter, “what’s going on up here, then? Planning on starting fires without me?”

Galo blanches and immediately starts spluttering. 

“No! I wasn’t gonna— I just couldn’t sleep—”

Lio lets out a quiet snort and, as realisation dawns on the fact that he’s just being teased again, Galo’s protests quickly simmer down to an open-mouthed gawp. 

Neatly catching the lighter once more, Lio flicks open the top with a metallic  _ click _ and scrolls his thumb down the sparkwheel in one, fluid motion. A small flame blinks into existence, bathing their faces with its orange glow as it dances with the wind, and Galo recalls — with perfect clarity — the sensation of closing his lips around Burnish fire. 

“It’s not the same.” There’s a wistfulness to Lio’s tone that Galo can’t remember him expressing so openly before. “There’s no voice.”

Lio promptly snaps the lighter shut again, extinguishing that gentle light and heat, and tosses it back to Galo without so much as a sidewards glance. Luckily, Galo doesn’t make a fool of himself this time and manages to snatch it from the air without a repeat of his earlier fumbling. Unfurling his fingers, he blinks down at the little device. The metal surface is ever-so-slightly warm to the touch — from the fire, or from the heat of Lio’s skin? 

Not so long ago, they’d been one and the same. 

“‘No voice’, huh...” 

Galo turns his gaze skywards. Despite all of the light pollution from down below, he can just about make out the distant light of the stars up above. He recalls Dr. Prometh's lengthy explanation — the parts he’d managed to stay awake for, anyway — on the origins of the Promare: a world of sentient fire, burning for eternity somewhere, a universe away. Much stronger are his memories of Lio’s words from their first meetings:  _ The flames are part of us. We can hear them. We hear their cries. _

“... Lio?” 

It’s his turn to startle Lio out of reverie, though his reaction is decidedly less  _ dramatic  _ than Galo’s was. His lashes flutter as he blinks back into the present. His brow ticks up into a curious arch. Expectant. Sudden nervousness threatens to tighten Galo’s throat, forcing him to swallow hard as he carefully mulls over his words for a second longer — a not inconsiderable task for someone who usually blurts out whatever’s on his mind without thought. 

“What is it?”

Galo takes in a breath.

“Do you— do you miss them? The voices, I mean.” 

The rapid widening of Lio’s eyes reveals it all; he wasn’t expecting this particular line of questioning. But after a few, painfully long seconds of deer-in-headlights staring that sees Galo squirming with regret, Lio finally surprises him with the gentlest laughter.

“Yes. Of course I do — especially at nighttime. Everything is so  _ quiet _ .” Though tinged with undeniable melancholy, there’s also a softness to Lio’s tone that speaks directly to Galo’s heart. “They were always there with me, always whispering. I was never alone.” Lio holds his hand open, though his upwards palm remains conspicuously devoid of that pink-and-aqua flame that he had once been able to summon as naturally as he drew breath. “Though you know…” He slowly clenches his hand again, forming a loosely-balled fist. “That hasn’t changed. Even without the Promare, I’m  _ still _ not alone. I still have Meis and Gueira, the rest of the ex-Burnish, Burning Rescue — and you.” Extending his arm towards Galo, Lio treats him to a smile as radiant as the break of dawn. “Galo Thymos. The man who showed me that you don’t need fire to have a burning soul.” 

Galo’s grinning with delight before his brain even finishes fully processing what he’s hearing, shoving the lighter into his hoodie pocket and reaching for Lio’s outstretched fist with his own almost entirely by instinct. 

“Heh! I meant what I said, y’know — I’ve always got your back.” 

Their bare knuckles bump against one-another with warm familiarity, sparking those same feelings from the aftermath of their final fight — feelings of victory and triumph and  _ hope _ . 

Hope for the future they might forge together. 

As their fists drop away once more, Galo flops down flat onto his back and crosses his arms behind his head. Heart hammering, cheeks aglow, belly fluttering. Just as the world will take time to rebuild, so will the lives of everyone within it. And if things can’t go back to the way they were before — before Kray, before Mad Burnish, before the Great World Blaze even — then they’ll simply have to work towards building something  _ new _ .

“Lio?”

“Mmm?”

“I’ve been thinking — hey, don’t laugh! — that uh, you should…” Unable to meet Lio’s searching stare head on, Galo tilts his face in the opposite direction. “You should move in with me. Properly, I mean. Not just camping out on my couch or at HQ.”

There’s movement just on the periphery of his vision and all of a sudden Lio is kneeling right beside him, face hovering directly above Galo’s. This time it’s impossible to avoid his stare. 

“Is that what you came up here to think about?”

The significance of their current positioning and the close proximity of their bodies is not lost on Galo and the heat in his cheeks intensifies. 

“I came up here to think about lots of things.” He swallows. “But yeah, guess that was one of them.”

Lio’s expression remains carefully blank, though he doesn’t look away even for an instant. 

“And what else? The lighter…?”

“I found it! Someone probably came up here to smoke and dropped it. Y’know I’d  _ never _ —”

The answer seems to satisfy something in Lio and he visibly relaxes, gaze softening to the point that Galo loses his train of thought entirely. 

“I see. Two fires in one lifetime is enough for you, huh?”

By this point, the thoughts in Galo’s head have been reduced to white noise. He can do little more than gawk dumbly up at Lio, sweat prickling the back of his neck as he desperately tries to piece together a conclusion that  _ doesn’t _ have 90% of its basis in wishful thinking. 

Ten silent seconds tick by and an answer fails to materialise — until Lio begins to pull away and Galo reverts to his default state of speak first, think later. 

“Did you want to light another one?”

Lio freezes in place. Galo forgets how to breathe. 

After a moment’s hesitation, Lio eventually settles back into his previous position —  _ no _ , he’s leaning even closer still — and gives Galo a careful glance-over. 

“Haven’t you got this a bit backwards? Asking me to move in with you and  _ then _ asking if we can kiss?”

Galo can’t help but smirk.

“ _ Technically _ we already kinda—”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence. The rest is lost somewhere in the sudden meeting of their mouths, Lio’s hand cradling the side of Galo’s face with the kind of tenderness he didn’t even dare let himself daydream about. His initial shock soon melts into eager compliance, shaping his lips to match the pliant warmth of Lio’s — and then mild complaint the instant he breaks away. Hot breath ghosts over his skin as Lio murmurs, “Does that answer your question?” 

Galo lets out a little  _ hah _ of blissful disbelief. Freeing one of his arms from beneath his head, he reaches up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind Lio’s ear before trailing his fingertips down along the curve of his jaw.

“Maybe.” Galo’s grin skews towards the mischievous. “Or maybe I need a little more convincing?” 

He doesn’t need to ask twice. 

🔺🔺🔺

Early morning sunlight streams through the gaps in the curtains, casting golden rays over their entwined bodies as they doze side-by-side in a bed too small for two. Pressing his nose to Lio’s hair, Galo breathes in his sleepy scent. 

Eventually, the alarm will ring to announce the start of a brand new day, but for now they drift in cosy closeness — sharing a moment that belongs only to them.


End file.
